


Sei It Ain't So

by leet911



Category: Maria-sama ga Miteru
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-09-09
Updated: 2004-09-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:40:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22034182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leet911/pseuds/leet911
Summary: Sei thinks she's moved on, but sometimes it doesn't feel that way."Then all of a sudden, my mouth is moving, but the words coming out aren’t the biting sarcastic ones I had in mind. Instead, they’re the ones I’ve hidden so deeply within myself I hardly even recognize them anymore."
Relationships: Kubo Shiori/Satou Sei
Kudos: 3





	Sei It Ain't So

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written back in 2004. Just porting my old stuff over to AO3.

* * *

I'm lying on the bed, counting the cracks in the ceiling, trying not to think about how I feel. Emotional pain is abstract. I know it's out there, but somehow it doesn't touch me the same way it used to. Sometimes, it seems as though there isn't anything that can reach me.

Don't listen to me. I'm not always like this. Depression is a strange state of mind. Not that I'm chronically depressed, mind you, but I just broke up with someone, so cut me some slack. Usually I'm unbearably cheery, but I guess you could say I'm just hiding the real pain.

It's okay though. I'm not that distraught over losing my girlfriend. I mean, it wasn't ever serious. Not to me anyway. And it's certainly not the first time I've broken it off with someone. Nor is it likely to be the last. I guess I just don't know what I'm looking for. Or rather I do know, but I don't want to admit it.

I'm becoming sick again, sick of these smiling people, sick of these pointless classes, sick of all this worthless drivel I go through day after day. But here I am anyway, in my college dorm room, watching the paint peel overhead. I don't know how long I've been here, but time seems so inconsequential at the moment.

The rattling of the door interrupts my brooding however, and my roommate Aya bursts in, a pile of books in her hand. Except for the glasses, she looks a lot like Sachiko: tall frame, long hair and all. She even has that refined, elegant look about her, but that's all it is, a look. She's a little bit of a klutz, but lovably so.

Groaning at the weight of the books, she trudges over to me and drops the whole pile on the bed. Then she smiles and points her finger at my nose. "What are you doing on my bed, Sei?"

"My mattress is all lumpy."

"Hmph. I have a big exam tomorrow, and you know I study better on my bed, so move. Besides, shouldn't you be in class?"

Grumbling, I pull my arm up to my face so I can see my watch. Two-forty. "Yeah." My arm falls back to the bed, limp.

She becomes serious all of a sudden, and she clears away the books so she can sit on the bed. "Is something wrong?"

"I broke up with Hisa."

She doesn't quite huff at me, but I can tell that's her reaction. Not that I'd blame her even if she let it out. Love 'em and leave 'em, that's me. At least, that's how I've been as long as Aya's known me. Still, in my current state of mind, I think I need more from my roommate than a simple brush-off.

"Usually that doesn't get much of a reaction out of you."

And she's right, no matter how much I may hate the fact. I've been drifting from relationship to relationship, and nothing's really changed, but somehow, this time, I feel different. It's not that Hisa meant that much to me. I hate myself for saying that, but the truth hurts sometimes. It's just that I don't feel like playing this game anymore. I feel as though I've lost myself somewhere, in the time between graduation and now, and I no longer like who I've become.

But that's my problem, and not Aya's. She has an exam to worry about. I should get out of her hair.

"You're right." In one fluid motion, I sweep off the bed and onto my feet. Raggedly, I run a hand through my tangled hair. At least my eyes are still dry, if that's even something to be proud of.

"You're going to be okay?"

I turn back towards her at the question, my hand already on the doorknob. I hadn't really expected that from her. "Yeah. I'll leave the room to you. Good luck with your studying."

"Where are you going?" It's good to know she actually cares though, just in case I need something to fall back on.

"Just into town for a bit. Maybe I'll go see a movie or something. It'll be good to feel someone else's emotions for a little while." Because right now, all I have in my heart is that mind-numbing sense of apathy.

I step out of my taxi in front of the cinema and for all its glamour, the theater is quite deserted. But it is the middle of the afternoon, on a working day no less.

An unseasonably brisk wind picks up as I look up at the show times, and I find myself hugging my arms around my body, taking note of the overcast skies. I wish I'd had the good sense to bring my coat. Still, if I make a quick choice and get inside, maybe it'll be warmer when the movie's over.

Unfortunately, none of the titles look appealing to me. In fact, there isn't much of anything at all in life that looks appealing at the moment. But that's just the depression shining through again.

So instead, I let my feet carry me down the street, and my aimless wandering begins. Or at least, it starts out aimless enough. I'm just waltzing along, taking random turns and peering into random store windows, which isn't all that different from how I usually spend my free time. But eventually, the cold gets the better of me, and I rub my arms furiously as my pace quickens, trying to keep warm.

When the rain starts to fall, it does so without warning, pelting down in one torrential wave. I'm drenched before I can take two steps, even though that's all it takes to duck into the entranceway of a nearby building, which, as fate would have it, happens to be a church.

It seems strange to me, that even after a lifetime of Catholic schooling, I feel no particular connection to the faith. Or maybe it's because of that Catholic schooling. Nonetheless, this church is providing shelter at the moment, and for that I'm thankful.

Lightning rends the sky, and the cold wind cuts effortlessly through my wet clothes. I watch the rain for a few minutes, powerless as the storm intensifies. I both hate and love the rain. It brings promise with it, the promise of life, of rebirth, but it also brings memories with it, memories of time past and opportunities lost. With no other choice, I pull open the heavy wooden door and slip inside the sanctuary.

The door closes behind me, muting the turmoil outside, but not that in my mind. The lobby of the church is tiny and cramped, simply a small room opening into the chapel proper. I head deeper inside the church, studiously avoiding the carpeted path laid out. I would hate to drip all over someone else's carpet. Silently, I seat myself in the pews, somewhere in the middle of the empty church, and shake out my damp hair.

The chapel is cozy and dim, only the most meager amount of light making its way past the stained glass windows. At the base of the altar, a few candles are lit, casting flickering shadows across the dark walls.

In here, the storm seems distant, as though it could never touch me. Only if I strain, can I hear the drumming of raindrops, and even then, it is very soft, part of the background. The silence in the church is reassuring, not at all ominous. There's a quiet serenity to the place, even despite my seeming lack of faith.

Perhaps Fate was right to guide me to this place.

I'm not much of a praying person. I never was, but right now, in the face of everything that's going on, it seems fitting. So I close my eyes, put my hands together, and incline my head. But nothing comes to me. I don't know what to say. If I were to speak my mind, it would sound too much like I'm asking for something, and I really don't think that's the purpose of prayer.

Frustrated, I growl, shaking my head to clear it, and opening my eyes to find that I'm no longer alone. There's a nun standing in one of the doorways leading out of the chapel, and she's holding a towel in her hands. She looks young, for a nun, and she doesn't seem plain or simple either. Even at a distance, her features are strong and defined. She looks familiar somehow, underneath that concealing costume, but it isn't until she speaks that the face comes crashing back through my memories.

Her voice is soft and gentle, dragging me back to that day in the greenhouse so long ago. "I didn't want to interrupt your prayers, but I brought you a towel if you're wet from the rain."

Part of me wants to stand and run over to her or run away, but another part keeps me rooted in place. I don't think she recognizes me yet. I'm not sure if I want her to.

"Shiori?" The name is torn from my throat as she steps closer.

"Sei?" And the uncertainty in my heart is suddenly reflected on her face.

I always thought that if I ever saw her again, I would feel something, something other than the fear and self-doubt gripping me at the moment. Yet despite the obvious trepidation in both of us, the gap closes, and she is sitting next to me, handing me the towel. Mechanically, I take it from her, put it over my head, start drying my hair. At least I won't have to look at her while I'm doing this.

"What are you doing here?" She asks, and I'm grateful that I'm not the one who had to think of something to say first.

"Getting away from the rain." There's more I want to say, more I want to ask, but this day has just been too much too fast, and I don't know what to do anymore.

We're silent for a moment, the two of us collecting our thoughts and sorting out our emotions, but I still have my towel to hind behind. I need to think of something to say, something safe, something trivial, something that won't remind us of the last time we didn't see each other.

"What about you," I continue, "what are you doing here?"

"Learning, practicing, offering guidance to those who need it" She's so calm and soft-spoken, it's unnerving. I wonder if that's a rehearsed look. I wonder if that disarmingly soothing voice is something she's worked on relentlessly.

I offer a fake smile. "I'm happy for you. You're living your dream."

"And yours?"

I chuckle, almost as though she were making a joke. "I don't dream anymore."

She becomes small, all of sudden, shrinking away from me, and the maturity that was there only seconds ago vanishes. "Is that because of me?"

To be honest, I don't even know anymore. I don't answer her. Instead, I let out the despondent sigh that I've been holding in all day. There's something she wants to say, but she holds off because of my reaction. I give her a few seconds, but with nothing forthcoming, I stand and head towards the door.

There's a moment's hesitation before she gives chase, and she doesn't reach me until my hand is on the heavy handle of the front doors. Still, there's a small part of me that warms at the thought of her even bothering to follow.

"Where are you going?" Her words are clear, but their impact is lost to the storm raging outside the now-open door.

"I'm late for class." The rain is lighter now, but not by much, and I'm soaked again before I make it to sidewalk. The wind however, is just as cold, and my wet clothes only serve to remind me of the warmth inside the church. It takes all of my willpower not to look back.

Still, I only manage about twenty paces before a hand on my wrist stops me.

"I'm sorry, Sei. What else do you want to hear?"

I turn to face her, jerking my hand away, with words rising in the back of my throat. But the young woman standing next to me isn't a nun anymore. This is the Shiori I used to know, the girl filled with both passion and docility, the girl who held an indescribable gentle power over me. She's standing there, in her wet clothes, and those haven't changed, but her eyes are alight with the fire that I used to crave seeing.

There's a stunned silence between us, and in my mind, I'm reliving the day I met her. Then all of a sudden, my mouth is moving, but the words coming out aren't the biting sarcastic ones I had in mind. Instead, they're the ones I've hidden so deeply within myself I hardly even recognize them anymore.

"That you still remember every single day we spent together. That you think of me, every time it rains. That you sit by the window, press your hand to the glass, and pretend we're still in that greenhouse. I want you to say, that I'm not the only one with this sick empty feeling in my chest. I want you to say, that you used to love me but were afraid of what it meant." I'm not finished, but I need to pause for breath at this point, because the rain and the tears are drowning me. For a moment, all is quiet save for the sound of raindrops, and the harshness of my whisper breaking the silence is almost painful. "I want you to say that you still love me."

"I can't." She says, and even though I never expected anything else, my heart screams.

"Why not?"

It's her turn to whisper. "Because if I say it out loud, I won't be able to deny it anymore."

It's only then that I see she's crying also, and I desperately wish I could change that. "Run away with me." And I know I'm echoing the past, but maybe all I really want is to recapture whatever it was we had back then. Maybe all I want is another chance to hold onto that.

"What are we running from, Sei?" She sounds resigned, defeated almost, and I hate hearing her like that. But her words have the ring of truth to them, and I can't help seeing that she's right.

"Shiori..." I take a step towards her, my hands reaching for hers, the ones I so callously discarded just a few moments ago. "I'm tired of running."

She doesn't break away from me, and for that I'm grateful. She doesn't fight me either, as my hands touch her shoulders and pull them towards me. Her warm body is an inviting oasis in the cold rain. With my cheek is resting against hers, I whisper into her ear, my voice suddenly weak. "I'm tired, Shiori, please don't run anymore." And even though I've already laid myself bare, asking her to stay is the hardest thing.

I don't even know how we got here so fast, from civil conversation in the church to crying against each other in the rain, but it lets me hope that there's still something between us. I'd always thought that after all this time, it wouldn't mean anything to me anymore I'd always thought that I was stronger than this, and that I'd buried it deep enough. But it's strange sometimes, how quickly life can turn around and slap you in the face.

Shiori's clinging to me, as though the world was ending around us, and for some reason, I can't find it in myself to look at her. There's a part of me that wishes I could laugh and say something witty, but I've just come to the startling realization that I no longer like the person I've been pretending to be. So instead, I close my eyes, and pull her tightly against me, even though I know this probably won't last, and that, in a little while, she'll come to her senses and push me away. Still, maybe I need this. Maybe I need the closure I never really got before. But that's a selfish thing to think, it's all about me and not about her.

"Shiori?" I compose myself somehow, good sense prevailing over emotions. "Maybe we should get out of the rain."

She looks at me then, and something pulls at my heart, but she's already stepped away from me, and the loss of contact is a world of difference. I'm cold again, all of a sudden, and horribly struck by the fact that she really is a nun.

I wish I could see past those clothes she's wearing, and I'm revolted by what I was thinking of only moments ago. For a few minutes, we're just standing there dumbly, our wet clothes dripping onto ground.

"Maria-sama is watching." I don't know why I say that. I only know that I have to break the deafening silence of the rain pounding down around us, and I can already feel another rejection coming. It'll give her an excuse. It'll let me run away again, and things can go back to the way they used to be. I don't know why I'm afraid again. I'm supposed to older now, wiser, but it certainly doesn't feel that way.

I'm completely unprepared, when she takes off her veil and shakes out her hair, almost as though she could tell I was uncomfortable with her attire and everything it symbolized. I'm even more shocked, when she leans forward and kisses me.

It's just a quick brushing of her lips against mine, wet and slick from the rain. There are tears in her eyes still, but her voice is clear when she finally speaks. "Let her watch." Her hand falls neatly into mine and we start moving, along the road, away from the church.

There are so many things I need to think through right now, but my mind just isn't up to it. Now is not the time. For the moment, it's just Shiori and I, alone with the rain, and our whirlwind of emotions. There are no more words between us, but that's okay too. There'll be time for that later. For now, it's just her fingers locked with mine, and the pleasant twinkle in her eyes.

And as we walk down the street, with Heaven crying on us, I can't help but feel like I'm sixteen again, and everything's all right.

* * *


End file.
